In a Mirror, Darkly
by twistedpremise
Summary: The night before his son was supposed to become a viking, Stoick watched a Night Fury destroy his house and end his bloodline. Four years later, Stoick has one thing on his mind... revenge. He'll start with the Nightmare under his boot... until a familiar whistle echoes in the night. The Nightfury has returned... DarkHiccup, DarkStoick, Hickup-Leaves-Storyline.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So, what happens if instead of the father-son crucible producing the happy ending we know from HTTYD 1, Hiccup flees? Not original, I know, but here's my excuse to skip four years and write an epic story of two heartbroken men fighting for what they believe in... on opposite sides. Hiccup & Stoick, at odds over the fate of Men and Dragons. And where does Astrid fit into all this? Mature characters with a dark-ish plot.

I live for reviews, so please, let me know what you think!

And of course, I own nothing to do with HTTYD. Not even a t-shirt.

* * *

War never changes… not to a Viking.

Echoes of countless generations of his ancestors called him to battle- charging among the burning buildings as embers rose into the midnight sky. Deep shadows danced as stars disappeared behind hulking black forms- the infernal beasts which plagued both his nightmares and his fantasies.

In his nightmares, they killed him.

In his fantasies, he killed them.

For a moment, Stoick imagined the first chief of Berk- Othin Haddock- standing where he stood now, among identical burning structures surveying identical chaos of war. He imagined every generation of chief in turn for he knew them all by memory, their names and legacies permanently engraved in his heart from their portraits in the Hall. In turn, he saw them each standing here, as identical dragons breathed identical fire, and identical warriors fought valiantly to protect their home. Were the dragons raging now descendants of the dragons his Ancestor battled, just as he was the son of a long lineage of warriors?

The sorrow of the thought brought rage to his eyes as a Monstrous Nightmare fell from the sky into the central square, wing clipped by a bola.

Two figures rushed at the beast, brandishing thick cords meant for tying the beast down.

"DROP THE ROPES!," he shouted them back, drawing his hammer from its shoulder mount. "This one's mine."

Stoick saw the fear in their eyes as they backed away from the snarling beast- but not fear of the dragon…

Fear of him.

The Nightmare whipped its head around to snarl at its new challenger, and Stoick was pleased to imagine that same fear in the dragon's eyes.

Stoick the Vast had always cut an intimidating figure, but it was only in the past four years that he'd commanded the fear of both Viking and Dragon alike.

Firelight bathed him in shadow, the ridges and valleys of his scars pronounced by the graying streaks in his smoldering beard. Blood stained his armor from a dozen battles before, blood of his enemies he left half as a testimony of beasts slain, half from apathy.

Cleaning his gear didn't seem to matter so much anymore.

The red beast roared, but Stoick neither slowed nor quickened his gait, marching inexorably at the flaming monster.

The dragon opened its mouth again, preparing to spew liquid fire, but Stoick nether dodged nor ran.

Instead he thrust his left arm in front of him, draping his thick cloak over his massive frame.

The devil's fire flowed around him as Stoick marched forward still, rolling off the iron plates Gobber had sewn into the heavy furs.

Its fire spent, the beast checked what it hoped to be the ashes of a man…

Only to find Stoick unharmed, not even a stone's toss from its snout.

Only once Stoick could see the yellow of the Monstrous Nightmare's eyes did he break composure.

"AAAAAAAAAAAH," he waved his massive hammer over his head, pouring his anger, his outright rage and assuredness of dominion into his guttural roar. "AAAAAH!, AAAAAAGH!"

The dragon backed away from him, its head low to the ground, fearful of this fireproof Viking who roared like an Alpha…

And that was when Stoick struck.

One blow of his hammer knocked the beast's head to the ground.

One kick forced it to the side.

Stoick planted his heavy boot on the Nightmare's snout, pinning it to the cobblestones of the square beneath him.

Bending down, he stared the beast in the eye as his deep, hateful voice growled from between clenched teeth. "You belong to me, now."

Apparently his voice carried across the square- he heard his men calling for chains to bind the dragon and bring it to the arena.

Stoick looked down again at the beast beneath his boot, then over into the depths of a fire engulfing a nearby cottage. _That cottage burned down that night as well…._

* * *

 **Four years earlier, the evening after Hiccup won Dragon Training.**

The fires roared as Stoick raced past that cottage to the armory.

"Gobber, where is Hiccup?"

"Oh, you mean our wee lil dragon-slayer-to-be?," the resident blacksmith's light-natured accent returned. "Sent him home, looks like we scared 'em off, an' the lad needs his rest before the big day tomorrow."

"Aye," Stoick frowned, making one last sweep of the skies. "I don't get it Gobber, something's not right about this one. It's too soon since the last raid, and nobody I've found has actually seen the beasts. Just a few fires nobody saw start, none anywhere near the sheep or yaks, and only buildings we hadn't fully repaired yet. It's like-"

A familiar whistling split the silence of the night, as calls of "Night Fury, get down!" sent warriors to the cobblestone below in preparation for-

And then the blast…

At first, the distance explosion was so subdued, Stoick thought the infamous Nightfury had outright missed the village.

The horror in Gobber's eyes, however, assured him that the sheer _wrongness_ he'd been feeling all night had just come to horrible fruition…

…as Stoick turned to see his house- Hiccup's house- blown to smoking, burning splinters.

A dark shape sped across the sky, blocking out only the occasional star as it streaked past the village and out over the bay...

Stoick raced to his home, numb and deaf, knocking men, women, and children aside as he fought not to believe what he knew to be true…

That noble line of warriors, chiefs standing as bastions over the Isle of Berk, had just been ended.

His son was dead.

* * *

 **Present Day**

The fires receded from before his vision as the memory faded and Stoick became aware again of the square around him, of the dragon under his foot.

And then he heard it.

That sound; that haunting, piercing whistle… the likes of which Berk hadn't heard in nearly four winters…

"Night Fury, get down!"

Stoick didn't flinch as purple light flashed. An explosion at the Arena- the beast was coming for their training dragons…

Scowling down at the Nightmare below him, the Chief growled a deep, rumbling satisfaction.

 _Finally,_ Stoick the Vast shifted his grip on his hammer, bringing it up above him. _I will kill the Night Fury that murdered my son, and I will end the line of Night Furies, just as they severed mine._

He brought the hammer down on the vertebrae of the Monstrous Nightmare's neck, crushing them and severing everything between its head and its body.

He relished the way the whole beast went limp below his might.

He only regretted the loss of a perfectly good Nightmare for his troops to train on.

 _I'll have to spare the next one,_ he summoned a small group of men to march with him to the Arena with a thrust of his arm.

 _After all, you need dragons to train an army of dragon-killers._

* * *

A/N: Okay, there you have it, folks. If you didn't catch it, yes, this is Stoick going "full Drago." Essentially, this scene is a parallel to HTTYD 2, where Drago "tames" Hookfang... except Stoick is even **more** brutal, because this isn't a kid's movie and I can get away with it. Next chapter will fill in a bit more and is much more original, I assure you.  
Please, leave a review! I thrive on them!

-TwistedPremise


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So, just for clarification: Instead of fighting the nightmare after flying with Astrid, Hiccup faked his death and ran off with Toothless. I know, been done a thousand times... but this one I decided to take it a few shades darker... Let's see what happens when Hiccup and Stoic both have become warrior-chiefs of opposite ideologies, shall we?

Oh, and I don't own anything related to HTTYD. This is all for fun and my reader's enjoyment.

I live on reviews, so please: tell me what you think!

-TwistedPremise

* * *

It was strange, watching Berk burn from above.

He remembered Berk burning, of course. That much was familiar. As a scrawny infant, and then a scrawny kid, and then as a scrawny teenager, he remembered watching the way flames danced and buildings crumbled. He remembered watching smoke and sparks rise on the hot currents, wondering where it was they went…

Well now he knew. They went to the sky- the realm of dragons, of freedom. Fire wasn't the dragon's way of destroying, it was the dragons' way of freeing everything from its bound, unnatural state.

Because that's what it was: unnatural.

Berk took pride in its artificialness. Twelve days North of hopeless and a few degrees South of freezing to death, Berk was _wrong._

It was _wrong_ when they built a village here.

It was _wrong_ when they rejected him.

It was _wrong_ when they accepted him for what he wasn't.

It was _right_ that he left. Berk would never have changed. Stoick would never allow his son _not_ to kill the Nightmare. Hiccup _would_ have died in that ring, leaving Toothless stuck in the most _wrong_ state a dragon could ever be.

Hiccup had made it _right_ when he left, when he set out beyond the nest and found a new home with Toothless, one where they _belonged_ and discovered just how _right_ the dragons were and how _wrong_ Vikings could be.

It was _wrong_ that they caged dragons and killed them.

So while the fire taught the village how right it was to be free, to fly, now they were back to make it _right_.

The iconic whistle of Toothless' speed announced their presence as Dragon and Man dove towards the ring.

At the last second, Toothless' blast tore through the metal cage around it and they dove through, pulling up in front of the heavy wood doors.

Wordlessly he slid off Toothless and ran over to the first gate. _Get in, free the dragons, destroy the ring, get out._ The process was familiar, the mantra reassuring.

The door was lighter than he remembered- or maybe he'd just grown in the past four years of travels and fighting. It was strange, though, it looked like the gears hadn't been maintained, like they hadn't been used in a while…

The gate creaked open and immediately he understood why.

 _Empty._

He froze when a voice from his past called out his name- a name he hadn't gone by in almost four years now.  
"Hiccup!"

The tall, lanky young man whirled around, Toothless spinning to face the same way, firing a plasma blast immediately at the noise.  
A higher-pitched squeal jogged his memory as the black-clad former Viking stepped in front of his dragon friend, blocking another shot.  
"Fishlegs?"

The broad-shouldered youth's voice called out from a shadow on the floor, apparently he'd dodged the blast. "Yes, it's me. You need to get out of here, take me with you."

Hiccup had questions, but now was not the time to ask them. _Get in, free the dragons, get out. No dragons to free, time to get out of here. Fishlegs knows my name… I need to keep him quiet, figure out what else he knows… and who else does._

It didn't take much communication, Hiccup just swung up onto Toothless' saddle and they flew at the blanching young Viking. Seconds later, Toothless soared out of the cage, Fishlegs in his claws as the larger man struggled not to scream.

Hiccup grinned, smirk hidden by his mask.  
 _I know just the place._

The old pine stood proud over the forest even after all these years as Toothless deposited Fishlegs on the upper branches. The wood creaked and bent as the large man hugged the trunk, but nothing broke.

"Is this really necessary?!" Fishlegs protested, eyes wide at the dark empty air below him.  
Toothless settled on a tree nearby, out of range of any weapons the Berkian may have concealed.

Toothless fired a warning shot just over the large man's head.

"Oooh, okay, just be glad I'm not barbecue. Got it, message received."

The masked rider just tapped his dragon on the neck as Toothless closed his jaws, but still eyed his catch warily.  
"Where are the dragons?"  
The rider's voice was muffled, and deeper than his narrow stature suggested. Nevertheless, his voice was cold, demanding.

Fishlegs winced at the question, sighing. "We haven't had dragons in those cages for almost three years." His voice was distant in memory. "Not since Astrid..."

That seemed to jolt the dragon rider from his scrutiny. "What about Astrid?"

Fishleg's face fell. "You have to understand, Hiccup," he hedged, "things… changed after you died…"

* * *

 **Flashback**

"I want these defenses secured," Stoick roared over the village square as all of Berk scrambled to prepare. In the broad daylight like this, it was strange to see so much activity, but this was a rare situation. Oswald the Agreeable and the Berserkers were visiting Berk to renew the peace treaty, and Stoick insisted on everyone being prepared for war if the worst happened.

In fact, it was almost like he _expected_ the worst to happen.

"Chief," Astrid called from behind Stoic, jogging up beside him. "The defenses are better than Berk has ever seen. Oswald has never been trouble, this should be-"

"There are many things that should be," Stoic cut her off. "Just keep the Guard ready."

"Yes sir," Astrid frowned, but nodded. _Why keep the Dragon Guard armed for a peace meeting… with vikings?_

A voice called out from the sentry post. "Berserker ships! They've brought an Armada!"

Immediately, both Stoick and Astrid ran to the ports, shielding from the glare to spot a sequence of shadows on the horizon.

Astrid turned to her chief, spiked armor rustling as her brow furrowed in concern. "Why would they bring so many ships to a conference?"

Stoick didn't turn, but Astrid saw the corner of his lip turn up as he grinned. Astrid felt a cold pit settle in her stomach as he responded.

"Because I asked them to."

* * *

Stoick didn't greet the Berserkers at the docks.

Snotlout, uncharacteristically quiet, greeted the flagship at the docks as a flamboyant, even belligerent young man named Dagur announced his succession in the place of his father. They marched, Dagur with a contingency of his guards behind him, to the Meade Hall. Dagur attempted to banter, to bait Snotlout into arguing about the village, about dragons, about leadership or fighting skill, but Snotlout only led in silence, as though afraid to speak.

In tense silence, watched from shielded windows by hidden Berkians, they marched. Finally, Snotlout shoved open the Meade Hall doors, the mixed battalion marching through. Once their eyes adjusted to the smoky firelight, Astrid saw the chief. Stoick sat on his throne, prominently residing on a dais as they filed in.

On either side, Astrid's Dragon Guard- the finest warriors in Berk- stood armed and ready, silently facing the Berserkers as both groups bristled.

Astrid stood at Stoick's left hand, Snotlout moving to stand at Stoick's right.

"Well, this is dramatic," the red-headed youth spoke up. "I am Dagur the-"

"I know who you are," Stoick cut off the young man. "And you know who I am. This-" he nodded to Snotlout, "Is Snotlout Jorgensen, heir to Berk. This-" he nodded to his left, "is Astrid Hofferson, Captain of Berk's Dragon Guard and one of the finest warriors on the Island..."

He paused, weighting his next words with meaning.

"And your bride, if you sign this treaty and join your armada to our warriors in a campaign to unite the archipelago."

The entire hall buzzed with murmurs and shuffling at the announcement, none more so than Astrid.

"I'm WHAT!?"

She whirred first towards her chief, who did not move or react, then towards her parents. The Hoffersons were both present, standing in the small crowd of Berk elders gathered along the walls. They betrayed no reaction, but Astrid could see their eyes. There was no surprise there, only sorrow and resignation… they knew, and they had given their blessing, if begrudgingly.

 _A political marriage…_

Astrid had never considered the possibility of a political marriage. The Hoffersons weren't in the Berk succession lineage, and political arrangements were almost always between the chiefs' families.

 _But now the chief has no family to offer, so he's purchased the right to marry me for political reasons from my parents…_

The thought made Astrid's stomach churn.

The Hofferson's weren't wealthy, and Astrid didn't have any siblings. The family line would end if Astrid never married, and the Hofferson's couldn't afford the medicines, care, and supplies it would take to have another baby. A political marriage also automatically ensured Astrid would be well cared for to preserve a treaty even if the husband wasn't a naturally kind man, and put her in a position of power in a foreign tribe.

None of this mattered to her right now.

"Stoick, don't-"

"Be silent, Astrid," he cut her off.

She opened her mouth to protest anyway, but Dagur spoke first.

"Well, well, well," his voice rose in almost a giddy enthusiasm, as his hands rubbed together. "And here I was thinking I'd have to make this trip interesting myself!" He turned to punch one of his guards in the stomach in enthusiasm, the unlucky man doubling over as the wind was knocked out of him. "And _you_ said this would be another boring treaty. Hah!"

He turned back to Stoick, strolling forward. "So let me see if I understand. I sign a war contract instead of a peace treaty- bring my armada to the fight- and in exchange I get your most beautiful young woman in my bed. And she fights, too!"

Astrid bristled as he circled her, rounding the throne and reappearing on the other side of Snotlout.

He clapped his hands in eagerness. "So, what happens when we conquer, say, the Meatheads, for instance? I mean, I'm all for killing my enemies and building a monument to myself, but I assume you have some kind of 'master plan?'"

The entire hall was silent in rapt attention. From what Astrid could tell, this was the first anyone had heard of Stoick's ambitions, and nobody wanted to miss his response.

"When we conquer a tribe," Stoick began, "we will take every man able to carry a spear and conscript them into our army, which will be based here on Berk. We will train them to kill dragons, then mount one organized assault on the Nest. We will destroy the dragons and bring the tribes under one banner. I will be chief, and you, Dagur, will succeed me."

The entire hall erupted with buzzing conversation.

Spitelout, standing in the Dragon Guard whirled on Stoick. "You can't do this! My son-"

"Your son is not fit to be chief!" Stoick roared down at his second-in-command, silencing the hall in the process.

Stoick stood, tugging down his ceremonial cloak with its armored plates. "The dragons have plagued our islands for too long. We Vikings have a common enemy, and if we cannot defeat it alone then we will defeat it together, by whatever means we must!"

He addressed the hall. "The Haddock line of chiefs over Berk ends with me. If I am to be replaced, it will be by the one who brings unity over the islands, and conquers the dragons! No more dead sons and daughters of Berk!"

There was silence as the hall processed. Astrid seethed, Snotlout looked dazed, but the majority of the room slowly started nodding. Whether because they believed in their chief, feared him, or were simply desperate to be free of the flying scourge of dragons, it seemed the village was willing to go along with this crazy plan.

And so too, it seemed, was Dagur.

"First dibs on the throne of the archipelago and a hot wife in exchange for the largest armada ever built? I can get on board with that." He glanced over his shoulder and his guards started nodding furiously. "Where do I sign?"

Stoick grinned beneath his beard, a one-sided smirk as he settled into his chair. "We will sign in the morning, with the blood of a dragon. There's a Nadder in our arena, nearly past its use for training. We'll get one last use from it and seal the end of dragons."

 _No,_ Astrid's eyes flew open. _Stormfly…_

Dagur laughed in agreement, a horrifying, unhinged sound as he turned on his heal. "I'll have my ships pull in for the night. Can't have a war party without the army!"

The Hall began to disburse, pockets of people gathering. Some to discuss the revelation of Astrid's new engagement, others the magnitude of Stoick's bargain. Astrid herself disappeared as soon as she was able, one thing on her mind.

 _I have to get out of here_ , she resolved. _If Hiccup can do it, so can I. I have to get ahead of this, save Stormfly and the others._

The next morning, as the town woke from drunken revelry and started making preparations for the signing ceremony, they discovered a few things missing.

Namely Astrid, and all the dragons from the Arena.

* * *

 **Return to Present**

Fishlegs finished his story and gave his audience a moment to process.

"How much of this do you know, and how much have you guessed?" he asked, his voice flat as he processed. _I showed her Toothless, I showed her not all dragons are bad,_ he realized. _She must have-_

"She left me a letter," Fishlegs clarified. "I found it the next day. She told me everything. How you showed her about dragons, how she trained the ones in the arena in secret. How she couldn't let the treaty happen…" his voice trailed off. "She was only partly successful, there."

"What do you mean?" Hiccup studied his former friend with uneasiness. "Without the marriage or the blood to sign, the treaty couldn't have happened-"

"It didn't," Fishlegs interrupted, "but Stoick wouldn't take no for an answer…"

"Then how-"

"He killed Dagur," Fishlegs blurted out abruptly, voice pained. "He killed Dagur and took command of the fleet himself. Then with the armada, he allied with the Bog Burglars, promising Snotlout to their heir Camicazi. He's been at war, conquering the rest of the tribes for the past three years, only got back after the thaw three weeks ago. The first ship of warriors should be coming in next week."

Hiccup's mind reeled as he processed. "And Astrid?"

"I never heard from her again," Fishlegs sighed, the tree creaking as he shifted. "But I might know something…"

Toothless' ears perked up as Hiccup's eyes flew open. "How?"

"Johann tells stories," Fishlegs whispered conspiratorially. "Stories from other tribes. Stories of the Valkyrie."

Both Hiccup and Toothless were rapt in attention as Fishlegs continued.

"The Valkyrie comes during the raids," he whispered. "Sometimes riding a Nadder, sometimes a Razorwhip, sometimes a color-changing dragon. Nobody really knows. All anyone can agree on is that she fights better than any warrior, fiercer than any dragon. And when the raid is over, no dragons are dead… but neither are any Vikings."

"And you think this is Astrid."

"Nobody ever sees her face," Fishlegs insisted. "So I don't know. But the stories started about a year after Astrid disappeared, and many of them include a blue nadder… like the one she disappeared with."

When Fishlegs trailed off, silence reigned. For perhaps a minute, the only sound was the wind and swaying trees.

The black-clad rider reached up to take off his helmet, revealing the shaggy brown hair in the moonlight. His green eyes glared at his old classmate. "Who else knows about us?" he demanded, his hand on Toothless's shoulder.

"Nobody," Fishlegs assured them, sighing. "Stoick would kill me if I suggested… it was bad enough when Astrid went rogue."

Hiccup nodding, considering…

And then he broke the silence, his voice softer than Fishlegs had heard it all night.

"Where do you stand?"

Fishlegs blinked, surprised by the question. Hiccup's voice was wary, colder than he could ever remember hearing it before…

"Uh, right now, in a tree. Though I don't know for how much longer," he shifted as the tree swayed in the wind.

Hiccups unamused glare told him he couldn't avoid the real meaning of the question, not if he wanted down.

I don't know," he confessed, sighing. "For three years, Stoick's been off to war. He's avenging a son who wasn't killed by dragons, but Hiccup… he's scary. Everyone's afraid of him, even dragons! I can't… I can't stand up to that."

He paused, ashamed.

"But I can't… I mean, you tamed a _Night Fury!_ Everyone thinks that's the most wild of all dragons, but I'm looking at him right now! Sure, he looks ready to eat me, but still, I'm alive! And then Astrid… she says she tamed every dragon in the arena, by herself!

He took a deep breath, steadying himself.

"So I've been studying. I've gathered every report, every book, every rumor about dragons I could get. And I tried training a few myself, but I could never figure it out… I had a little luck with a Gronkle, I think, but then it tried eating my hand. So instead I've been setting them free in the arena, breaking the locks and leaving doors open. We haven't had a dragon for more than a week in years. Now that Stoick's back and we're going to be training fighters, I don't think I can keep that up, but I can't kill them. Not unless I have to…"

Hiccup nodded grimly. "Yeah, I was afraid of that."

He slammed his helmet back in place, and Toothless leapt from his perch.

A few seconds later, Fishlegs was back in the air, held in the Night Fury's claws above Berk.

"Here's the deal, Fishlegs," the rider called out. "Hiccup Haddock is dead. Don't call me that, don't tell anyone about me. If you do, we'll be back for you."

Fishlegs would never have believed the village, well, hiccup could have inspired such a chill in him. Perhaps it was the absolute _assuredness_ , the unshakeable, simple _truth_ in his words, but Fishlegs just _knew_ that the Night Fury's return would mean Fishlegs' death.

But the rider wasn't done.

"We are _the_ Night Fury. We protect Dragons from Vikings, and if Stoick wants a war, he'll have one. We'll burn Berk and its allies to ashes. You don't have to spread the message, we'll do that ourselves. Just don't get in our way."

There was nothing Fishlegs could say…

He was quickly realizing, though, that this new Hiccup was not the boy who'd left Berk four years ago… He'd changed, maybe even as much as his father.

And that terrified him.

"My advice," the masked voice continued, "is to leave Berk and never come back. Because if there's anything I learned while I was gone, it's that the Alpha protects his nest."

Before Fishlegs could reply, he was falling.

In the dark, it was impossible to see how far he was from the ground. For a few seconds, he expected to die, impaled or crushed or drowned…

Instead, he splashed in the pond just west of town, the familiar washing station not too far upriver…

A minute later, he heard the whistle of a Nightfury again…

And Stoick's hut blew to splinters in violet flame.

 _Dear Thor, Hiccup… What happened to you?_

* * *

A/N: Okay! So, thoughts? Stoick set up for war (with the entire archipelago behind him), Hiccup on the side of dragons? Astrid an outcast Valkyrie? This is the story of what happens if the relationship between Stoick and Hiccup does exactly the _opposite_ of what happens in the movie, so if you're looking for a happy ending... well...

Anyway, let me know what you think! I derive great inspiration from reviews...

-TwistedPremise


	3. Chapter 3

**Four years ago, after Hiccup fled Berk.**  
_

They didn't know where they were going.  
In the darkness of night Toothless flew, Hiccup and a pack of supplies on his back as his young rider fought not to cry…

And failed.

 _I just destroyed my home. I'll never see dad again. I can never go back._

It didn't matter that the house could and would be rebuilt in a matter of days- at most a week- just like it had three times over Hiccup's childhood.

It didn't matter that his relationship with his father was… difficult… at best, basically estranged and deceptive at worst.

It didn't even matter that he felt relieved to be free of the pressure that hovered in the air of the village. First the weight of the glares, then the weight of expectations…

It didn't matter how logical it was to leave… because despite it all it was still the only home he'd ever known.

 _But what choice did I have?_ He lamented. _What am I supposed to do? Tame an enraged Monstrous Nightmare, with the entire village watching? Even if I somehow survived long enough to try, they'd never let me! Training requires focus, trust… no dragon can trust me with the entire village armed and banging on the cage like that…_

Except Toothless. Somehow, Hiccup _knew_ their connection was stronger than a village of Vikings.

Which is why they left.

Faking his death had been easy. Setting a few candles to burn until they reached kindling in a few half-finished huts made it look like dragons were setting fires. That was enough to start the scramble, but without actual dragons flying around it was easy to convince Gobber to send him home early.

Instead of home, though, he ran to Toothless and together they blew up the empty house.

He knew the absence of remains would get explained away.

"Oh, the dragon ate him first" or "he was so small, he was incinerated instantly."

The only loose end was Astrid.

 _Astrid… I'm so sorry, Astrid._

It had been the hardest part of the decision, deciding what to do about her. That flight… that **incredible** flight made him think- wish- that maybe she'd come with him if he asked her. Maybe she'd seen the truth…

But no, it was only a passing fantasy.

He remembered her indignation when he asked her not to tell his father about the nest.

"-to save your pet dragon!?"

Despite it all, her loyalty was still to the village.

And why not? She had a mom and dad who loved her for who she was, she exceled at everything the village cared about… she had everything to stay for, and nothing to gain by leaving.

Meanwhile, he had to lose everything either way…

So he chose the option that let him keep Toothless, and let the village- and his father- keep their memory of him… the false him they'd celebrate.

That line of thinking helped console the young teen as he consulted the stars for guidance.

 _What now?_

They'd need to land for sleep, but Hiccup wanted to cover as much distance as possible before then. He wasn't comfortable with the idea of sleeping on Toothless' back mid-flight, and not being able to work the tailfin at a moment's notice seemed dangerous.

Unbidden, the night sky prompted a surprising memory...

"Remember son," Stoick the vast knelt down beside his six-year-old son as they stood on the bow of a ship, staring into the night sky. "The north star is always true. The Gods gave it to those who are lost, so that they can always find their way."  
_

 _What is my way?_ Hiccup returned from the memory with a pang in his heart. _I've always had A way, even if it wasn't mine… at least I had something I thought I wanted… but now?_

Now he had two spare sets of clothes, some tools, a week's worth of food, a small purse of gold that wouldn't be missed in the fire, and his notebooks.

And the stars, apparently. Directions to anywhere… as long as it wasn't Berk.

Or anywhere in contact with Berk.

Or anywhere that fought dragons.

Well, that pretty much meant nowhere.

And _that's_ where the answer lie.

"Toothless," Hiccup leaned forward to let the dragon hear and see him better. "Head east, and just barely north. We're going where no one knows… the uncharted parts of the archipelago."  
_

Two weeks later, and Hiccup didn't know if they'd survive the winter.

Somehow, this part of the archipelago was more hostile than even Berk. Every village seemed frequented by "trappers" who actually set out to _catch_ dragons! Hiccup had some success landing outside of town at night and slipping into the larger settlements alone in the morning to trade, but pretty quickly he was noticed as an outsider and found himself unable to answer the questions of some surprisingly hostile people…

Even the ones who would sell to him tried to charge him double the normal rate.

Now he and Toothless were flying back to their "home," a small island about an hour from anything. They'd been sleeping in a defensible but spacious cave when a sudden winter storm caught them halfway, with nowhere to land.

Toothless flapped hard against the wind. They'd tried flying above the clouds, but the downdraft kept sucking them back in.

Hiccup could tell Toothless was tiring. His wings were straining with each beat, and twice now he'd lost his balance in a gale and nearly toppled Hiccup off his saddle.

In was in the midst of this that Hiccup heard the most unlikely thing, something so bizarre he thought he'd imagined it…

"Fly with the wind, not against it!" A muffled, higher-pitched voice called from behind them and to the left. "You can't beat the storm!"

One hand raised against the fierce wind, Hiccup instinctively glanced over his left shoulder…

To see something impossible.

Behind them, a red dragon with four wings was holding position, a wide, flat face with whisker-like extensions flapping in the wind.

And on his back was a figure in green armor, their face hidden by a green helmet with six erratic horns.

The rider- _another dragon rider!-_ waved a staff at them, the strange hook at the end gesturing back the way they came.

"I have shelter!" The figure called, and the massive wingspan of the dragon fanned out and turned, being carried by the wind back and to the right.

Hiccup had to make a snap decision, but there really wasn't any choice.

 _It's probably-friendly dragon rider we don't know… or almost certain death trying to fly in a winter storm. Or looking for shelter back on the Island of angry villages we left an hour ago._

The promise of shelter overwhelmed his fear of the stranger, and Hiccup leaned down to pat Toothless' neck. It was all the encouragement the ebony dragon needed as his wings fanned out and they glided back to follow their new companions.

 _This ought to be interesting…_

 **TWO HOURS LATER:**

  
It certainly was… and then some.

"And after all these years… you took after me… and where was I? I'm so sorry, Hiccup. I wish I'd been there, but I didn't know… I couldn't have known…"

The young boy sat, his back pressed into Toothless as they sat in what appeared to be a makeshift kitchen hidden in the depths of the bewilderbeast's island.

The two of them- Hiccup and Toothless alike- were shocked. It had been a whirlwind few hours. Their flight to this island- further north and east than Hiccup had heard of anyone form Berk traveling- plus the revelation of his mother's survival, and the dragon haven, the bewilderbeast…

They were wary, and relieved to have found somewhere safe… somewhere almost _impossibly_ safe…

But more than anything, Hiccup was fighting back tears.

Maybe they were tears of joy… he'd just found his _Mother!_ His mother was alive, and living with _Dragons!_

Maybe they were exhaustion and relief… only a few hours ago he'd put their odds of surviving the winter at "just south of hopeless," but now there was fish on the fire before them, and an island's worth of apparently gentle dragons defending them.

Or maybe they were tears of loss.

His entire life, he'd been on the outside looking in. He never conceived that he could have had anything else, even… he was always just fighting an impossible battle, every day closer to accepting his fate as the outcast. Who could he have been, with his mother back home as his ally? How different could his childhood have been, if he had spent his life here… on the inside?

Toothless shifted to accommodate as the slim woman knelt down to cup Hiccups cheek with her hand, lifting his gaze gently from the stone floor to her gentle eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Hiccup. Can we start over? Will you give me another chance? I can show you all I've learned, these past sixteen years. I know it doesn't make up for my not being there, but this gift we share, Hiccup… it bonds us. It brought us back together…"

She paused, stoking his cheek with her thumb as his glistening eyes held hers.

"This is who you are, son. Who we are. We can change the world for all dragons. We will make it a better, safer place!"

Her gentle, warm voice reached down into his heart, into that place he'd been searching to fill for all his life…

Curiousity, more than anything, made him ask.

"And Berk?"

Her eyes fell, her voice hardening slightly with the weight of history.

"Vikings don't change, Hiccup. Believe me, I've tried. Some of us are just born… different."

There was a deep sadness to the thought… but also peace.

 _She's right. Berk wouldn't have changed… I was right to leave._

Hiccup stroked Toothless' side idly as he nodded.

 _Vikings don't change… but it doesn't matter now._ His eyes started to widen as he realized. _iit doesn't matter. If I don't belong with dad and the Vikings, if I was born different, then I belong here! The Vikings have it wrong… but here, someone knows the truth! I belong with the dragons!_

Their greens eyes met again, his now with hope rising from the depths as his hand came up to hold her wrist, her hands holding his face.

For the first time… he felt _home._

"Okay… Mom."

_

Four years later, Hiccup flew with Toothless away from Berk as the city chased off the last dragons of the raid.

He reflected on that first conversations, and on the many like it they'd shared over the years.

 _We thought we understood… we knew how dangerous Vikings were, how incapable they can be to just wake up and see… but it wasn't enough to save her._

His gaze hardened as Toothless fell into formation with a swarm of dragons- many carrying sheep, yaks, or other livestock.

 _If Stoick is uniting the archipelago, we can't have enemies in front and behind us._

Fortunately, Valka had followed through on her promise to teach him everything she knew… and together, they learned even more. Nobody knew dragons like Hiccup… and there were a few secrets that worked in Hiccup's favor.

He leaned forward to put his hand on Toothless' neck.

"Easy bud… just stay in formation. I think it's time we went back to the nest… we're going recruiting."


End file.
